


A Rainbow After Rain

by SoulOfStars



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Gen, Good!Medusa, Gorgons (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), I promise, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It Gets Better, Medusa helps a girl out, Protector!Medusa, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 00:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20282404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulOfStars/pseuds/SoulOfStars
Summary: The Oracle gazed at me with fathomless sadness in her eyes as she spoke in an unearthly tone."There is a storm coming for you."That's it. Seven words.





	A Rainbow After Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Watch Out: There is Child Abuse  
Remember to read the tags, y'all

The Oracle gazed at me with fathomless sadness in her eyes as she spoke in an unearthly tone. 

"There is a storm coming for you." 

That's it. Seven words. I left the temple of Apollo, confusion swamping me as I looked up. The sky was clear. There wasn't a cloud in sight. I shook my head. I had come to the temple on a whim, yet I was still disappointed by the Oracle's cryptic words. I contemplated them as I walked home. Did she mean them literally or figuratively? A storm... 

It was only nights later when I realized what she meant.

I had forgotten to gather water from the well, and my father knew it, as he always did. The night sky was empty of clouds and full of stars, legends staring down from their heavenly perches as my father's voice thundered through the air. 

I went that night without food.

The next day started with silence. He didn't say a word to me, simply dragged me to the river with a dagger in hand. 

I feared for my life, but he did not dare harm me. Instead, I watched as the water carried away my hair in clumps, snagging on branches as they were swept along, like clouds in a strong wind. My father told me to earn my keep and stay out of his way, and that the only way to do that was to masquerade as a boy. I was apprenticed to the blacksmith within the hour.

At the end of the day, my muscles, unused to hard work like that of the smithy, were trembling with exhaustion. I handed my father a single coin and collapsed into bed, falling asleep instantly.

The day after that, I met a woman by the well. She was gorgeous, her hair bound and her voice soft and sibilant, but I dared not speak more than a few words to her as I drew up the water. She recognized me, but said nothing of my hair or my bound breasts. Instead, she said to me, "Seek me out when the rain comes, for I shall shelter you from the storm." I left hurriedly after that.

It was only a few days later, when Apollo was just about to plunge the world into darkness once more, that my father came home drunk. 

His voice like thunder, his fists like lightning, he struck me down. Zeus would be kinder, I thought, if only because rainbows always come after rain. Never with my father, though. Tears fell from my eyes, cascading down my cheeks in a mockery of the river my father dragged me to only a few days before, and as they dripped onto my hands and bruised, shaking arms, I was reminded of a gentle rainfall.

I remembered the woman who promised me shelter. I know not her name, but I know her face and there's only one family in this town with eyes like those. 

It was late at night when someone opened the door, her eyes softening when she saw the bruises on my face. 

"Medusa," she called, and _oh_, I hadn't known, though I should've, especially because of how the others whispered her name right after someone else with haunted eyes disappeared. "This one is here for you, sister." 

A snake peeked around the corner of the door, then another, and it surprised me less than it should've to have seen her hair unbound. She watched me and I watched her, and her eyes were warm like flames on a cold winter's night. 

"Come in," she said to me, and took my hand. "We'll go to the others after you've had something to eat."

Endless relief took the strength out of me, and I allowed myself to be led to a small table. A few other women watched me curiously, their snakes scenting the air, though they made no move to harm me. 

"Eat," Medusa urged me, quietly, and gestured to a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. I ate.  
When I finished, she took my hand again, and led me to a small trapdoor set into the floor, invisible unless someone knew where to look. I glanced at her, fear stealing the words from my mouth. She smiled at me reassuringly. 

"It just leads past the treeline. From there, we may go in peace to the others." I nodded, swallowing. I climbed down into the dark tunnel first, and she followed after me, a torch in her hand. With her free hand, she grasped mine and pulled me into the darkness. 

After what seemed like a decade of walking, we reached another trapdoor, and she extinguished the torch before lifting it up, the light of the stars shining on her skin like the goddess Asteria herself had blessed her. I wouldn't be surprised if she had. Medusa took me, then, deeper into the forest than I had ever dared to go, then deeper than even the bravest hunters, so far into the forest that the trees were older than our temples and the land still remembered the old gods. Ahead of us, suddenly, I saw a light. Much to my surprise, however, as we drew closer, the light seemed to be getting higher and higher, no longer on ground level. I gasped, and Medusa grinned at me. 

"One of my sisters remembers a time when humans were creatures that swung from trees." Her face grew more serious. "You will be safe here. The storm is past." I nodded at her, and she left me at the base of the tree, waiting long enough to watch me clamber onto the first high branch before she left with a cheery wave. 

Maybe, I thought later, staring up at the stars from a spare hammock, hearing the soft sounds of others sleeping, I could find my own rainbow. Stormclouds no longer hung over me. I was free at last.


End file.
